Page 108 of Scandal
This is Blackstone House. One does not simply laud about.
“He is resting,” she says simply.
“And his prognosis?” I ask, hoping for a bit more information than that. Mercury slips her hand into mine. It feels grounding, and my pulse instantly slows.
“It’s…” She hesitates, glancing from me to Mercury.
My brow shoots up in surprise. “Are you not sure you can say it in front of her?”
Her spine straightens, a visible sign that she’s about to deliver a harsh truth. “I am worried about the nature of your time away. Why did you need an extra day? Are you two fighting? Should I be concerned?”
Mercury and I look at one another, and then, almost on cue, we both burst out laughing.
My mother’s eyes widen, then her face hardens in annoyance. “What? What did I say?”
“We’re not fighting, Mum,” I tell her, squeezing Mercury’s hand. “Far from it.”
“Then why?—”
“We just needed a little alone time.”
“But why—oh!” Her cheeks turn red. My jaw nearly drops to the floor. I didn’t know they could do that. “Oh yes,” she says, clearing her throat. “Of course.”
“Can you trust her now that you know our relationship isn’t in peril?” I ask, amused. But as soon as I say it, I’m left with the haunting reality that in just a matter of weeks, we will have to convince not just this woman but the entire world that we’ve fallen out of love.
I swallow hard, trying not to let my panic show.
“Yes.” The countess nods. “Of course.”
She’s about to continue when there’s a knock on the door. Then Evie walks in, reminding Mercury of a dress fitting.
“Can it wait?” I ask.
“I’m afraid it cannot,” Evie says, looking very different from the last time I saw her. Her dismal black suit is gone, and she’s now wearing wide-leg trousers and a floral silk blouse. She still has that iPad clutched to her chest, however. “The designer drove in from London and only has a few moments before he must go to another appointment.”
“It’s okay,” Mercury assures me with a quick kiss to the cheek. “Spend some time with your mother. You and I can meet up later, okay?”
I nod, hating that our time together is now interrupted by meetings and schedules. “Okay.”
She excuses herself, leaving only the countess and me. She watches me with a curiosity I recognize.
“What is it?” I finally ask.
“You love her, don’t you?”
I look away, hating that she’s figured me out so easily, even though I’ve spent my entire life trying to do the same to her.
“Yes.” It’s barely something I’ve admitted to myself, but when faced with the question head-on, I can’t deny it.
I love Mercury Creed.
Completely. Irrevocably. Indefinitely.
“When do you plan on asking her to marry you?” The expression on my face must say it all, because her brow shoots up, and she follows up with, “Are you not planning on it? She would make a lovely countess.”
My mind is swirling.
I haven’t let myself go there. It’s just too painful to dream of such things, especially since she wouldn’t merely be a lovely countess.
